


Heart of Courage

by Alethia



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Porn with Feelings, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 01:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18001652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: Chris knew it was bad when he started shaking from the blood loss.The away mission was a no-brainer, the simplest way to find out what the Red Angel was doing on this uninhabited planet so long ago. Getting separated from the others, lost in the rocky ravines with Michael, that was mildly concerning, but at this point he was convinced you could drop him in the Klondike winter with Michael and a nail file and they'd be just fine.The earthquake? That was when it started to feel like someone was messing with them.





	Heart of Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, look, a Pike POV. (Someone needs to stop me, I have other things to do.)
> 
> My thanks to [ricochet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricochet/) for the beta. Also posted [here](https://alethia.dreamwidth.org/1019982.html).

Chris knew it was bad when he started shaking from the blood loss. 

The away mission was a no-brainer, the simplest way to find out what the Red Angel was doing on this uninhabited planet so long ago. Getting separated from the others, lost in the rocky ravines with Michael, that was mildly concerning, but at this point he was convinced you could drop him in the Klondike winter with Michael and a nail file and they'd be just fine. 

The earthquake? That was when it started to feel like someone was messing with them. 

Granted, that could be the head wound. Or the blood loss from being impaled by that spiked rock formation when the ravine collapsed around them, burying them deep within untold meters of metallic-looking rocks. 

He'd always heard gut wounds were hellishly painful. He didn't really need firsthand confirmation, but life was generous like that. The fact that they killed you slowly just felt like piling on. 

Chris smiled a little. Michael probably wouldn't appreciate the pun, which was a damn shame because the least they could do was laugh about this. 

Michael, who was still futilely trying to jerry-rig their communicators together in hopes of creating a signal strong enough to reach through all the shiny, interference-laden rocks around them. Her optimism was kind of inspiring. 

"Commander," he tried again, holding himself very still in hopes of getting a handle on the fine tremors sweeping through him. It sorta worked. 

"I'm telling you, I can do it. If I can just combine the power sources from the two communicators—" 

"Then you'll have a communicator that can extend all through this ravine, but not beyond it. We both saw the geography scans. Our sensors couldn't detect anything down here and that was before the cave-in."

Michael pressed her lips together, determined. There would be no arguing with her. 

"We are getting out of here."

"I do believe that," he said, genuine. "I just don't think I'll be alive when we do."

Michael shook her head, scooting closer. He could feel her body heat where her knee rested against his thigh. "Don't say that. You just need to hang on."

Chris lifted his hand, showing her the bloody jacket pressed against the rock spike impaling his stomach. It was completely saturated.

Michael hissed, instantly pulling off her overshirt and pressing it to the wound. 

Chris grunted as the pain of it shot through him, nerve endings firing fury at his brain, whiting out his vision for interminable seconds. He'd never felt pain like this. Even his toenails hurt. Idly, he wondered what pain level would send him unconscious. He suspected he might just find out. 

Once he pulled together what meager shreds of control he could, he met Michael's eyes, shaking his head. She seemed almost vulnerable, sitting there in her tank top, holding his guts together like she could _will_ him to survive. 

"Michael," he panted, getting her attention with her first name. "It's not working. The pressure's not staunching the bleeding. Probably because there's a giant spike skewering my insides."

"We don't know that. Emergency medical guidelines are very clear about proper bleeding protocol."

"Yes, by all means, let's follow the damn rules," he snapped. 

Chris winced at her stricken expression, it dawning on him that maybe she was hanging on by a thread, too. It couldn't be easy to watch your captain bleed out. 

"Sorry," he murmured, catching her eyes and making sure she saw the truth of it.

Michael smiled a little, being strong for him. "Nothing to forgive. I think being impaled grants you an automatic grumpy pass."

"Well, if I'd known..."

She smiled then, genuine, her eyes shining as she moved closer. With the proximity she noticed the tremors, worry lining her forehead. "You're shaking. Let me—" She tucked herself against his side, sharing what body heat she could. 

It helped, the shaking subsiding a bit. It could be psychosomatic, or simply her presence, but whatever the case, he'd take it. 

"Thanks for trying," he said, soft. This close, he could see the fine layer of dust on her skin, the metal content of the rocks almost making her shine in the light from their emergency kit.

Michael shook her head. "This isn't over."

Chris smiled a little—she had such _faith_ for a nonbeliever. He raised his hand, pressing scraped knuckles to her cheek, gentle. "You are extraordinary," he murmured. 

Michael gave him that quelling look he knew so well by now, this one laced with panic. "Don't."

Chris held his hand to her cheek, speaking softly. "I need for us to move past this argument, so we can prepare." 

"As long as it's preparing for a rescue, I'm good." Chris shot her a pleading look, knowing it was undignified, but it was all he had left. Michael simply shook her head. "They'll trace our signals to where they lost us and then search from there. They could be digging right now." 

"And you accuse me of magical thinking." 

Michael smiled, nodding. "I really do. And I will keep doing it because you _are_ getting out of here."

"Well, you keep thinking that, but I'll just be over here, saying what I need to." Chris smiled at her to take the sting out of it, brushing his knuckles once more against her cheek. Michael leaned into the touch, closing her eyes like it hurt. 

Then she shook herself. "When they show up, you'll regret this."

"Eh, I'll risk it." 

Michael looked away, but no, that didn't work. He needed her present. So he flipped his hand, cupping her cheek, running his thumb along the unbroken skin. It did the job, her wide eyes flying to meet his. "I have a few regrets in my life, but by far the biggest is not putting the truth out there. Grant me that, at least." Michael's expression softened. She nodded. 

"These past few months...I didn't expect my time on the _Discovery_ to be so fulfilling. I didn't expect to get drawn in." Chris moved his hand, trailing his fingers down to her jaw. "I knew you were smart. Of course you were smart. But your _mind_...your everything, really—" He broke off, his own mind too fuzzy to crystallize it, to put it all in perspective. "Just know...I see you. And I've stood in awe every day." 

Michael looked like he'd punched her. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed, swallowing hard. "If we're doing this..." She shook her head. "After Lorca and Philippa and Tyler, you were what I needed. An honorable man, someone with integrity, someone I could admire. You made me feel," her voice dropped, rough, "safe." 

There were layers to that, Chris could see it in her eyes, but if she didn't want to elaborate, he wouldn't push. It was enough. 

So he nodded. "As you deserve. You deserve it all. Never doubt that." Michael's eyes filled.

Chris didn't want to see her cry, not now, when the shaking had returned with interest. He cleared his throat, swallowing against the sour taste there. "Send a message to the _Enterprise_. 'I was unworthy to serve alongside such a fine crew, but it was my greatest honor and privilege.'" 

Michael seemed like she wanted to argue, but simply nodded. 

"And to Number One: 'Stay frosty.'" Michael smiled a little, confused. Chris quirked his lips. "She'll understand." 

He considered sending a message to Spock...but she'd feel duty-bound to deliver it, despite their estrangement, and he didn't want to cause her any more pain. So he left it at that. Spock would also understand. 

The edges of his vision started to darken then, all his energy expended. The room dimmed around him, everything but Michael. As if from far away he heard Michael saying, "Captain?" Even now she was trying to save him.

"Just extraordinary," he murmured. Then the world went black.

***

The light burning through his closed eyelids was downright cruel. Hadn't he suffered enough?

Chris winced as his eyes fluttered, but he couldn't stop himself. He had to know. 

Blinking slowly, the room sharpened around him, resolving into—

The med bay. Huh. Michael was right. 

Of _course_ Michael was right. One of these days, he'd learn. 

Doctor Culber stepped up beside his bed, warm, a hint of relief in his eyes. It reminded him of that old lesson from command training—losing one's captain was bad for morale, do try not to die. 

"Welcome back, Captain," Culber said. "We had to relieve the pressure on your brain from the swelling, you lost a lot of blood from that gut wound, and you contracted a nasty infection as a parting gift. But for all that, you're doing remarkably well."

"I was sure they'd put a fork in me. What the hell happened? How long was I out?"

"You've been recuperating here for five days. The search team used your last known position to extrapolate likely shelter spots. Then they started digging."

"Remind me never to argue with Michael Burnham," Chris grumbled as he sat up. He wasn't sore, exactly, all the injuries healed, but it was like his body knew something had happened and wasn't quite in sync yet.

Culber frowned at the non sequitur, a little worried furrow appearing. Chris waved him off, allaying his fears of permanent brain damage. "I'm fine, she's stubborn, we're all shocked to hear." Chris looked around the empty room. "She _is_ all right?"

Culber's expression relaxed as he nodded. "She would've stayed for the surgeries if I hadn't kicked her out. She's been by every day. We were all very worried."

Chris nodded and clapped Culber on the shoulder. "Thanks, doc, you're a life-saver." Then he smirked. "Now who do I have to bribe to get some food around here?"

***

"Told you you'd regret it."

Chris looked up from his report as Michael walked into the ready room, a rueful half-smile in place. She bore no outward signs of their mission, as fresh and beautiful as ever, but he could see the knowledge in her eyes. She was trying to make it easy for him, letting him off the hook. 

Well, two could play the stubborn game. 

Chris shook his head, pouring sincerity into his words: "And I told you, I don't regret the truth. The circumstances, maybe, but not the truth. I stand by every word."

"Captain..." she started, then paused, like she didn't know how to go on. 

Ah, hell. In for a penny. 

"I just want to be clear, I have no expectations. But I also won't lie to you, Michael. My regard for you started early and has only grown the longer we've served together. That said, I recognize this puts you in an awkward position, so we can leave it at that. I won't let it affect anything else."

"What if I want it to?" Michael stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes, that thing she did sometimes when she was saying something hard. 

Chris shook his head. "I'm sorry?" 

Michael met his eyes then, something fierce in them. "What if I want it to affect...everything else?"

"Yeah, still not computing over here. You'll forgive me, I had a head wound."

Michael moved around the table, looking up at him. "I meant what I said, too." She covered his hand with her own, squeezing, emotion in her eyes he didn't recognize. "You've been...special to me these past few months." She said it like it hurt, like it cost her something. 

A new clarity settled over Chris, but before he could say anything, she seemed to shake herself, withdrawing her hand and stepping back. "It's not appropriate, of course. You're my commanding officer, it could create the appearance of favoritism and besides—"

Chris stepped close, stopping her words as his hand cupped her face, his thumb pressing against her bottom lip. "I did say I wanted to ruffle a few feathers."

"I seem to recall that," she agreed.

"If this is what you want, then you should have it," Chris said, brooking no argument. He leaned in, telegraphing his move, but she only tilted her face toward his, meeting his lips with her own, pressing close. Chris kissed her carefully, canting his head just so, his arms settling around her. Michael sighed into the kiss, wholly welcoming. 

He pulled his mouth away, then darted in again, taking her mouth, harder. She gasped into his mouth, and like that, it became real, Chris nipping at her bottom lip, then flicking his tongue there. Michael made a little sound as she responded, opening her mouth wider, chasing his tongue, her hands gripping his arms tight. His groan got swallowed in their kiss, both satisfied and yearning. He could do this for _years_. 

"Captain Pike to the bridge." Saru's voice broke them apart, Chris staring at Michael, flushed and breathless, the want in her eyes plain to see. Part of him couldn't believe this was happening. 

Michael pulled back first, straightening her uniform like it was armor. "You should—" She nodded to the door, flustered but trying to hide it. 

Chris smiled at her, happy and showing it, he knew, but it seemed pointless to try and hide anything now. "We'll talk later."

Michael smiled tightly, maybe a little unsure now that they were out of the moment, but she nodded. 

As Chris headed out, he schooled his features, pulling on the familiar captain's mask. Michael was private and circumspect, but he'd gathered enough to know she'd been hurt, likely badly. It was reasonable that she might have doubts. 

He'd just have to put them to rest. 

***

"I believe that we should set some parameters," Michael threw down before the door to his quarters had even closed. She was still in her uniform—armor again?—a determined set to her jaw. 

Chris smiled. It was forthright and to the point, treating emotions like any other issue—classic Michael. "Drink?" he asked, light, moving to the bottle over on his sideboard, the one he'd brought with him from the _Enterprise_ , Earth's best. 

When he turned back to face her, she seemed a little chagrined. But then her expression cleared and she nodded. "Yes, sir. Of course."

"You want parameters, there's a place to start. Call me Chris." He filled a second glass with a finger, then replaced the bottle. He handed her the drink, making sure to brush her fingers as he did so. 

Michael looked conflicted for a moment, but accepted the glass with a tight smile. 

"To beginnings," Chris said, clinking her glass lightly. He took a sip, watching as she did the same, but it was rote, almost obligatory. 

Chris sighed. "Listen, I know that time has a way of clarifying things, so if this isn't what you want—"

"No," she said instantly, then realizing how that came across, she reiterated: "This is not...unwelcome. Just unexpected."

"No kidding."

"I'd like to know what we're doing, though. The bounds of our...relationship." She said it almost like it was in question, as if he were going to sleep with her at night and refuse to be seen with her during the day. Which, he supposed, was fair. The _captain's fuck-buddy_ was probably a thing for people who weren't him. 

"Well, hell, Michael, I didn't imagine there were any."

Michael blinked, clearly not expecting that. She tilted her head, trying a different tack, trying to logic the illogical. "You're assigned to the _Discovery_ temporarily, so is this just a...holiday from your usual social life? No judgment, sir—Chris—I'd simply like to know what you want so I can be prepared."

"Do you usually plan out the end of your relationships when you start them?"

"That's presuming I start them." When he frowned a little at her, she continued, a bit stiff: "Haven't had much luck."

Chris frowned some more, clocking far more to that than she was admitting. Maybe one day she'd trust him with whatever story was on her mind. "I'm sorry for that." Because he was, truly. Anyone who couldn't see what he did...well. The universe was full of idiots, he certainly knew that. 

He set his drink aside, moving close, taking her hand again. That seemed to be a safe starting point for her. "Want to change it?"

Michael looked up at him, a little spark of courage gleaming in her eyes. She set her own glass aside and then stepped into his arms, raising her mouth to his. "Yes," she murmured against his lips. Then she kissed him.

There was no hesitation this time, mouths opening immediately, the kiss starting at wanting and staying there. Chris chased the hint of whisky on her tongue, delighting at the little sounds she made, so much more expressive than he'd imagined, when he'd let himself think this could be possible.

He pulled back, looking at her dazed eyes, smiling softly. "Just to be clear, no, you're not a holiday. And I want whatever you want to give me."

Michael smiled against his mouth. "Take me to bed, then, _Chris_."

"My pleasure," he breathed against her mouth, kissing her again as he moved toward the bed, hands exploring as they went. 

He followed her down onto the bed, carefully peeling her out of her uniform top and pants, fingers and mouth trailing along all the skin revealed. He spent long moments kissing up her shoulder to her neck, getting a shiver and moan as he bit at the tendon there, then laved it with his tongue. 

"God, the noises you make," he breathed against her ear before sucking on her earlobe, getting a heated little gasp. Touching her was like being drugged, heady but in the best kind of way. 

Chris found her mouth again, tangling their tongues together as he traced his fingers over every exposed bit of skin he could reach. He steered clear of her underwear, lightly teasing everything else, until she shifted, restless. 

Michael broke the kiss, shoving at his uniform jacket. "Come on," she muttered, going for the clasps. 

Chris covered her hands with his own. "In due time."

Michael pulled back to look at him, eyes narrowing—

And then he was pushed back, Michael suddenly on top of him, perched over his thighs, heat bleeding between them. "Now," she said, firm.

"Bossy," he teased. 

"You did hear it from my mother directly."

Chris laughed, letting her pull his jacket off, clever fingers tracing the contours of his chest, scratching through the hair there. He let her explore her fill, watching the way her eyes lit up as she did, not moving to advance things further. But then she paused, catching his gaze, like she was working through it in her mind. 

"I've never known you to hesitate, Captain."

Chris noted the use of his rank, but let it slide. "Not hesitation. _Relish_. I want to do this right."

"There's no wrong way."

"Now we both know that's not true," Chris said, dry. 

Michael laughed at that. "Fair enough." She leaned down to take his mouth again, teasing his palate with her tongue as her hands worked at the enclosure to his pants. 

It grounded Chris in his body, reminding him of the insistent press of his erection, that it had been ages since he'd been in bed with a beautiful woman. That this was _happening_. Almost of their own volition, his hands went to work on her bra, Michael helping to get it off. 

He rolled them, getting Michael underneath him, his mouth moving from hers, down her neck, to latch onto a nipple, clocking her sharp gasp. 

Chris looked up at her, breathing hotly onto her nipple, Michael shivering again. "I want to taste you," he murmured, one finger trailing over the thin fabric at her hip. 

Michael's whole body shuddered—he could feel it everywhere—before she nodded, her own fingers moving to help, tugging her underwear out of the way, letting him press her thighs open as he maneuvered between them. Something about that made her suck in a breath, the sound stilling him. He looked up at her. 

"Michael?" he asked, not moving or pushing. Waiting for her. 

"Yes, fine. Sorry, I just—got distracted. Carry on." Chris studied her, the glazed look, pupils blown, the way her eyes traced over his face. Wanting. 

"Roger that, Commander," he said with a smile, then bent his head and finally got his mouth on her. 

Michael gasped again, sharper this time, pressing against him as he licked between her folds, tracing up until he could lap, light, at her clit. 

A strong hand anchored in his hair as he traced his tongue around where she wanted him most, slipping one finger inside her to tease. 

Chris had devoted ample time to getting very good at this. He loved the way he could _feel_ what a woman enjoyed, like the way Michael gasped and stilled when his tongue fluttered against her, how she arched her back and squirmed, trying to get more. How she shivered when he pulled back to breathe against her before diving back in. 

Soon she was writhing against his tongue, hand yanking at his hair, breathy moans filling the air, his name like a prayer on her lips. "Chris—Chris, please. _Please_ , just—more—"

Chris groaned against her, getting an answering moan from her, and relented. He flicked his tongue over her clit again and again, two fingers thrusting into her until she started to shake, her cries going desperate as her orgasm washed over her. He kept it up until it was too much, her hand tugging his head away, the aftershocks pulsing around his fingers.

Chris tried very hard not to think about what that would feel like around his dick. 

When she was limp and boneless, he kissed his way up her hip, up her stomach to the underside of her breasts, exploring there while she caught her breath, her ribcage heaving under his mouth. He traced his fingers over her body, light and coaxing, not specifically meant to arouse. 

So he was surprised to find a hand in his hair again, yanking him up to meet her mouth in a demanding, punishing kiss.

Michael pulled away, sweat dotting her temples, almost glowing. "That was..." She shook her head, like she was at a loss. "Impressive."

"Shoulda read my file," he said, light.

"'Cunnilingus Expert' is in your file?" 

"Well, now you'll never know, will you?"

She grinned, pulling him into another kiss, rubbing up against him in a way that reminded him, yeah, he'd been hard for a while. 

Michael's fingers worked at his pants again, speaking against his mouth. "You really need to get naked and inside me."

Chris groaned, his shaking fingers helping her push his clothes off and out of the way. Michael wasted no time in getting a hand on him and _squeezing_ , instantly immobilizing him with the rush of pleasure that went straight to his head.

"My turn," she said, triumphant, as she pushed him onto his back. She pressed her mouth to his hip, tongue and teeth exploring, her hand idly stroking him. 

The sight of her pink tongue darting out to tease his bellybutton sent off some kind of fireworks in his brain. "This show's gonna be over, you keep that up."

Michael smiled, mischievous, and sat up. "Can't have that."

She moved to straddle him, but he grabbed her thigh. "Wait, not until you're ready."

"Oh, believe me, I am ready." Whatever else she may have said was lost as she lined up and sank down onto him, the warmth and wet enveloping him, and _fuck_. 

Chris was not prepared for the sight of Michael raising herself up and sinking back down onto him, her breasts swaying with the movement, skin glowing, expression rapturous. "You feel so good," she murmured, shoving down onto him a little harder. 

A moan tore from his throat. He really was not going to last, he was going to embarrass himself here and that was—that could not happen. 

So Chris grabbed her hips and held her tight, stilling her, both of them breathing hard. Michael stared at him, a hint of concern surfacing. "You okay?"

Chris nodded and rolled them again, pressing her back against the bed and thrusting into her, achingly slow. Michael's moan was simultaneously satisfied and curious, so Chris leaned down to her and murmured, "Wanted this," as he took her mouth in a kiss. 

He set up a rhythm, slow but inexorable, as one kiss melded into the next. He figured out just what angle she liked from the hitches in her breathing and set about nailing it every time, her heels digging into his ass to get more. He wasn't gonna last, might as well take her with him. 

"Right there, _please_ ," she gasped into his mouth, her thighs gripping him. Chris reached between them, fingers playing over her, getting more of those delicious moans. 

Blissfully soon, she was shuddering around him, eyes closing as she cried out his name. 

His name in that tone was _it_ for him, orgasm on him like that, waves of pleasure going on and _on_ as he came inside her, the whole room going a little fuzzy around the edges. 

When he came to, they were both panting, shaking. Michael's expression was dazed. Chris suspected his matched. 

"Wow," Michael said, her lips swollen, almost obscene. It was a good look on her. 

Chris smiled and leaned down to kiss her again, getting lost in her mouth for a moment before he regretfully slid out of her, slumping over by her side. He stayed close, fingers sliding over her skin, comforting. 

After a few moments, she took a breath. "You're not unworthy." 

Chris frowned at her, not following. 

"In the cave-in, you said you were unworthy of the _Enterprise_ crew. You're not. You set the example, there and here."

"I'm not perfect, Michael."

"No, but you're _good_ ," she insisted, almost like she was offended on his behalf. 

Chris searched her eyes, asking softly: "Then why the hesitation?"

Michael tensed at that, so Chris moved closer, making a reassuring noise. "Hey, it's not an accusation. I just want to understand." He grasped her hand, interlacing their fingers with a reassuring squeeze. "You said it's been months. I had no clue, none, and I'm pretty good at reading people. What I take from that is you've been hiding this. Even after it was all in the open, you tried to give me an out. You keep going for escape hatches."

Michael nodded, gazing at him, her free hand touching his face. She swallowed and then admitted: "I look at you and I want to give you everything—all the secrets and darkness, all the things I try to forget." She went quiet as she looked away, considering, so Chris matched her, letting her work her way through it. She met his eyes again, the deep hurt there now plain to see: "I've felt that before. It didn't go well for me."

Chris pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her, as if he could shelter her from all of life's betrayals. She let him hold her, trembling faintly, like that had hurt to say as much as it did to experience. 

Chris made comforting, shushing noises, stroking along her back until she was still again, her cheek pressed to his chest, breaths puffing evenly against his skin. 

He kissed her head, then craned his neck so he could look her in the eyes. She needed to believe this: "I know others have let you down. I wish I could take that pain from you, but we both know that's impossible. All I can say is...I'm not them. I will never lie to you, Michael. I won't keep things from you beyond what my duties require. If there's a problem, we talk about it. It's not a guarantee, but I hope that I've shown you I'm a man of my word." 

He trailed his fingers down her cheek, still a little in awe that they were even in this place. "It's your choice, Michael. I know what I want, but you need to decide for you."

A ghost of a smile passed over her lips. "Then let's be brave together."

Chris smiled, pulling her in for a kiss. He could get behind that. 

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


End file.
